


ghost stands alone

by Acidus



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/F, follows cf route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 15:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20491427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidus/pseuds/Acidus
Summary: Ever since the tragedy at the Red Canyon, she had lived a solitary life.





	ghost stands alone

Even before the humans turned on them, the Nabateans were already numbered precious few, watching over their mother, who slumbered within the canyons of Zanado. After the slaughter - only her brothers and niece were left. Vengeance seethed in her heart, its venom scorching every part of her being, demanding justice for the murder and desecration of her kin.

But she had to bide her time. Nemesis and his band of thieves possessed the corpses of her kind, forcibly taken, and still commanded the loyalty of flesh-flies, descending on their master’s leavings. She would need numbers of her own, especially since Nemesis was surely being aided by some unknown benefactor. 

She plans, and sets them in motion. 

It is a long time before she is finally able to avenge her mother. She plunges her sword into the dark heart of Nemesis, again and again and again, each stab containing the rage and grief she had been carrying for more than a century. She cradles the bones and heart and name of Sothis, the only things left of her, and forbids it to speak of her lightly. Her mother’s name should not be so soiled to be on the same lips as obscenities and empty exclamations.

She looks upon her followers and says, _ look how the Goddess has favoured us with victory _.

Afterwards, she convenes with her generals, and agreed that the survival of their line was paramount. As long as one of them was alive, the Nabateans would endure. Macuil, disgusted by the greed and ugliness of humanity, wanted nothing to do with humans at all anymore, while Indech simply wished for the life of peace they had led before. The both of them scattered to the four winds, sequestering themselves in the most remote reaches of Fódlan. Cichol and Cethleann had chosen to return to Zanado, the only home they had ever known. Cichol promises his services if she ever has need to call upon him, but they must all stay separate and hidden for now. 

She recalls a girl child, all dishevelled hair and cut feet and glassy eyes, orphaned by greed and retribution, crying out for a parent that would never come. She thinks, _ never again. _The humans couldn't possibly be left to their own devices; she had to be the one to ensure such tragedies never visited Fódlan ever again. 

Saint Seiros stands alone as a living saint, patron of the Adrestian Empire, and protector of Fódlan.

* * *

  
When Jeralt reappears with a young woman in tow, her initial reaction was that she couldn't believe his gall, to trot back into the monastery years later, after having led her to believe that the babe her mother begged her to save had cheated death only to succumb to accident. That her mother's heart was lost forever. For a split second, her blood heats and thunders, whispering into her ear: _ destroy him._

Relief wins out in the end, and she relents. She invites him to lead her knights once more, and her as a professor at the Academy. Their skills would be most useful to the Church, and she would be able to keep a closer eye on them from now on, especially if what she suspected of the girl was true.

If Jeralt feels any shame or guilt, he doesn't show it. Both father and daughter wear stoicism like armour, gambeson under platemail. However, the professor connects with her class more closely than Hanneman or Manuela could: perhaps it was due to the close difference in age, perhaps it was the lack of airs she affected, perhaps it was that she was always ready to lend a hand or at least an ear to their troubles.

But she bonds with the faculty too. Alois is only too happy to look after his little sister in oath, she trains in purposeful silence with Shamir, and manages to mediate the quarrels of the other two professors. Even Catherine, in her own way, gets to know the professor as she studies the professor’s movements in battle, intent on understanding why she was so favoured.

And eventually, even though she initially keeps herself at arm’s reach, the professor starts breaking through to her, too. She asks her for instruction in faith and teachings of the Goddess, though she doesn’t seem to be any more pious. During breaks, they converse about the events of the week. The professor is impassive as always, but speaks of her students fondly. 

_ Bernadetta made major improvements in exerting authority, and I think she will be ready to attempt the Sniper certification in a few weeks. Leonie works surprisingly well with Sylvain and are the best riders in the class along with Ferdinand. Caspar accidentally knocked himself out trying to do an alleged secret technique from Brigid and had to be carried to the infirmary. _

She also receives gifts here and there. Small statuettes of the Goddess, meant to be enshrined on home altars, a few landscape paintings, and coins no longer legal tender. She appreciates the thought more than the items themselves, and has them stored away. 

But what she really appreciates are the flowers, freshly cut from the greenhouses. She receives lilies, of course, but also anemones and violets and lavender and forget-me-nots. She knows how much effort the professor puts into gardening, and sets them in vases around her room and office, watering them everyday. She realises how lively her living spaces look now, and thanks the professor the next time they meet. 

She feels a pang of wistfulness, every now and then, whenever she sees students of the academy in the dining hall. Eating, conversing and bonding with each other. It reminds her of camaraderie of bygone eras. Even then, she was placed on a pedestal, but at least she had her brothers. 

One afternoon, she spots the professor eating with her students. The jovial blue-haired boy - Caspar, she thinks - jabbering excitedly about the skirmishes last week, while a sleepy looking green-haired boy next to him sighs in exasperation, prodding his food with a spoon. 

A faint smile comes to the professor’s face at something Caspar said, and it suddenly strikes her that she had never seen Byleth be anything but stoic in all their time together. A familiar ache squeezes her heart, and she quietly excuses herself as she leaves the dining hall.

They spend more than enough time together every single week. So why was it that Rhea suddenly felt so terribly lonely? 

* * *

  
After Byleth receives the power of the goddess, the two of them convene in her room one night. There were to be no guards posted outside Rhea’s door, or the stairway leading to her quarters for tonight. 

_ (She had ran her fingers through the professor’s hair, admiring its colour. Cornsilk and young grass shoots, promising the end of the longest winter and the arrival of spring. A new beginning. _

_ Byleth rises up, and before Rhea can ask her to settle, to enjoy their moments together for just a little while longer, presses their lips together. _

_ “Is that… alright?” She asks, gazing deeply into her companion’s eyes. _

_ Rhea flushes, her mouth having suddenly gone dry. “I… yes, that is quite alright.” _

_ Byleth lays her head in her lap once more and places her hand on hers. She squeezes. “I am glad that I did not overstep, then.” Byleth closes her eyes, and her smile, Rhea realises, is beautiful and warm.) _

The professor arrives after midnight, silently opening the door without knocking, as she had asked. Rhea turns around, now clothed only in her thin silk gown, and their eyes meet. It could be wishful thinking, but Byleth seems less inscrutable around her.

“Fasten the door, if you will.” She whispers.

Byleth locks the door behind her, then embraces her. 

The both of them are inexperienced in this field. Their kisses are first unsure and exploratory, then become more hungry and hot. Byleth’s tongue probes against Rhea’s lips, running across her bottom lip, and Rhea lets her in. Their tongues touch, and blind panic strikes Rhea for a second, that she would notice how different it was, how she would be able to tell that she was a --

Rhea knocks into the frame of her bed, falling onto the mattress, and Byleth falls with her, still holding her. The professor chuckles softly and kisses her cheek, and her eyes are so warm and fond that Rhea can’t help but melt against her.

“May I undress you?” She asks quietly, her voice low with huskiness.

Rhea nods wordlessly.

Byleth reaches over and removes the lilies from her hair with such reverence and gentleness that it makes her heart sink. She disentangles the beaded tiara from her hair, and lays them both on the chaise lounge. Next, she unclasps the seal holding up her gown and sets it to one side. The front of her gown falls, revealing her breasts to Byleth.

Something rises unbidden in Rhea’s throat. “Wait.” She croaks. Byleth stops immediately, looking concerned. “I… would like to disrobe you, too.”

Byleth straddles her, her thighs splayed over Rhea’s hips, and Rhea feels heat pool in between her thighs. She tilts her head, letting her light green hair fall to one side. “Go ahead.” She commands. “Undress me.”

Byleth isn’t wearing any of the armour plates that go over her clothes, so it takes less time for her clothes to be shucked off. She shrugs off her jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and helps Rhea pull her sweater top off. She unbuckles the professor’s belt, and pulls the overskirt down past her knees, and Byleth kicks them off. 

The last barrier left on Byleth are her leggings, and Rhea’s hand trembles slightly as it reaches forward, but Byleth gently takes her hand and laces their fingers together. She leans down, her breasts pressing into Rhea’s own, and whispers into her ear. 

“Let me finish my work first.” She breathes. 

Rhea bonelessly lets Byleth slide the gown off her body, revealing her full glory. Byleth’s hands ghost over her skin, travelling up her arms and down onto her chest. Her calloused thumb and forefinger roll the bud of Rhea’s nipple back and forth, causing her to gasp. 

“Was that too much?” Byleth peers down at her. “Sorry.”

“N… no. I am simply unused to such… sensations.” Rhea never had the desire to touch her body other than for performing ablutions, but her whole body burnt with the need to be touched. She wanted Byleth to touch her. “Please… continue.”

Afterwards, they stay together for a while, bodies nestled together, but Rhea knows Byleth can’t spend the night. It would be scandalous if anyone saw the two of them together, or even the professor leaving her quarters in the morning, so eventually Byleth rises, reluctantly retreating from their warm embrace. She quickly dresses, and with a final kiss, departs under the cover of darkness. A beat later, she hears the rattle of armour and swords, and the guards resume their vigil.

Rhea lays alone in the dark, and ignores the sudden realisation of how cold, how empty her bed suddenly is.

* * *

  
Byleth turns away from her, and the heart and bone of Sothis points against her.

Rhea is alone.

* * *

  
“Lady Rhea.” Catherine approaches her, stopping a little farther away from her than usual.

Catherine had been ferocious in battle as usual, but her wrath was a terror to behold. Their combined efforts breaks the back of the Imperial Army, but they were meant to be the diversion, drawing the bulk of the army away from the monastery while the smaller strike force led by Seteth attempts to reclaim Garreg Mach. 

“The unit that invaded the monastery has been completely driven away.” The knight’s words seethes with quiet anger and frustration. “We were able to make a clean sweep of those who attacked us. However, I fear we can do nothing but retreat for now.”

They had fought to a stalemate, and were forced to withdraw lest they be overwhelmed by the rest of the numerically superior Imperial Army. If they could capture Garreg Mach, the Hresvelg whelp would be forced to retreat back towards Enbarr. It would split the Imperial forces in two as the Empire-leaning Alliance lords would surely draw their troops back to the Leicester Alliance. It would shift the direction of the war if it worked, but -

It didn’t. 

“What of Seteth and Flayn?” Her serene reply visibly unsettles Catherine, who for the first time looks hesitant. 

“Seteth and Flayn were able to escape in another direction. I have a message from them.” She gingerly proffers a furled scroll, and Rhea reads it, even though she already knows in essence what Cichol means. 

I_ am sorry, Rhea. I fear we must return to a life in hiding. I detest that person with all my heart. However, Flayn's life is more important to me than all else. _

_ I pray that you will one day be free from the burden of your work. _

“I see.” Her voice is cold, even to her own ears. “As expected, I am the only one left.”

She couldn’t find it in herself to blame Cichol. He had always been very upfront that Cethleann was the most important thing in the world to him, and it too would crush her if she was lost. She still retained a kindness, an innocence that needed protecting. 

_ But what about his sister? His mother? _ Her blood roils under her skin and rages. _ Did mother not require protecting? Did she deserve to be butchered and eviscerated so a human could use her corpse for his own gain? If he flees from the righting of wrongs, then what is he? _

These were dangerous thoughts she was having, and she knew it. Ever since that day five years ago, her mind had been running in circles, thinking about everything that had led up to this point. Perhaps she had been too nearsighted to recognise the buds of sedition in her own garden. _ Perhaps she had been too permissive of these humans to do as they are wont, cheat and kill _. Perhaps she was naive to open her heart to the one who gave her a reason to hope, only to be used in the end. Did Byleth ever love her, or had Hresvelg already sunk in her talons?

She couldn’t trust anyone. Not anymore. The only times she had loved, she had lost. She was tired and angry and sick of being abandoned and of having others taken away from her. Perhaps Macuil had the right idea, all those years ago.

Rhea stands alone, and whispers to her mother that she will save her. She would pierce the heart of the thief with her sword, cleave open her chest, and watch the blood drain from her corpse. A heart for a heart. 

* * *

_  
The legendary Edelgard von Hresvelg, last Emperor of the Adrestian Empire, and her greatest general, Byleth Eisner, faced the Immaculate One in Fhirdiad, then the capital of the Kingdom, which was now lit aflame on the Archbishop’s orders. Skilfully, they navigated the burning city, leading their troops around the church’s vanguard. They caught the Immaculate One in a pincer movement, having divided their forces earlier, but the Immaculate One was not one to go down without a fight. _

_ The exact details of the battle have been lost to time, but it was said that Emperor Edelgard and Byleth landed the final blow on the dragon together. Exhausted by her injuries, Byleth collapsed, and was thought to be on the brink of death, but timely intervention by healers saved her life. After the battle, she lost the power of the goddess, but was reportedly content. She was quoted saying that the power simply returned to where it came. _

_The remains of the Immaculate One disappeared shortly after the battle, and were never found. When Those Who Slither in the Dark were finally destroyed, no Relic nor Crest Stone corresponding to the Crest of Seiros was found. To this day, it is unknown what has become of her remains, or her final resting place._

* * *

  
Seteth looks upon the form of his youngest sister sorrowfully. “When I prayed that you might be free of your burdens, I had hoped it would not come to this. I hope that your pain is at least eased now.”

_ Byleth had came to Zanado a few weeks after the final battle, bearing no arms but the Sword of the Creator, wrapped in a shroud. _

_ Seteth bade Flayn to hide, and then confronted Byleth, greeting her with naked hostility and outrage. “Why are you here? Is it not enough that you injured Rhea in life? Are you here to desecrate her memory too?” _

_ Byleth shakes her head. “I know what you may think of me,” she replies, “but I never wanted to fight her. I don’t want to fight you either.” _

_ “Curious. I seem to remember the course of events going differently.” He folded his arms, glaring at her. He was unarmed, but with the Sword at her side, it did not matter what weapons he bore in any case. “But you have not answered my question. Why are you here?” _

_ She offers the Sword of the Creator to him with both hands. “I have something to return. Her mother’s remains, I am told.” _

_ Seteth waits two beats before taking the Sword; the shroud, he notices, is specifically one used for burials. “Very well. Anything else?” _

_ “I would like to see her.” _

_ He is a disciplined man, but that loosens the leash on his anger. “You think you have such a right? After what you have done?!” _

_ His rage washes over her like foam over rock, and she lowers her head. “I suppose not. Farewell.” _

_ She turns around, leaving him speechless, and never returns. _

Seteth had laid Seiros to rest in the Holy Tomb along with the rest of their kin, and here he lays Sothis to rest again. Nothing happens; it is not a fateful moment. He looks up at the sky through the holes in the ceiling, collapsed from age, and prays that they are also together in the thereafter.

**Author's Note:**

> i luv rhea and what i do for my favourite characters is make them Suffer
> 
> This would have been explicit if not for the fact that anything that came out of my brain re: sex scene is cringe 😬 maybe I'll actually flesh it out in the future, idk... but for now I wanted to get this out.
> 
> I don't think Edelgard and Byleth would have told everyone (and i mean the general population) about Byleth's whole "crest stone of flames in place of a heart" deal, which is why the account of the last battle is inaccurate. She's the last Emperor of the Empire because I envision that one of her last acts is to change the system of government to something else before she abdicates.


End file.
